


Attended

by thepizzasitter



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Sex, Bottom Nezu | Piers, Chronic Pain, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gentleness, Healer Nezu | Piers, Injury, King Dande | Leon, Love Confessions, M/M, Permanent Injury, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Top Dande | Leon, falling in love after leon has reclaimed the throne and become king, sort of anyways there's nothing accurate about this, this is literally just several thousand words of exiled prince leon and healer piers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: He hadn’t known then.Hadn’t known who it was he’d tended to throughout a handful of evenings in his home, who exactly he had found injured in the small shed that housed his medicinal stores and a few chickens. The stranger had tried desperately to get to his knees, and it wasn’t until much later that Piers realized he should have gone to his.An exiled prince was still royalty to the rest of them.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 112





	Attended

**Author's Note:**

> Damn chronic pain has been flaring up again and this was comforting to write. I did this in a cross style between my usual one and something a little more punctuated like how I wrote The Things We Love In the Dark. Not much to say here besides I hope you enjoy how soft this is! There's nothing quite like the thought of Leon in kingly regalia.
> 
> I love meeting new people on Twitter! Come shout at me either on my main/cosplay account (shyloren) or my Pokemon side account (CryptidPiers).

“Drink,” he instructed calmly, though he felt anything but settled.

A strong hand gripped his wrist, the other finding purchase against his forearm as the man drank down as much of the liquid as he could stand before he started to choke. Piers pulled the cup away, using his sleeve to wipe away the excess moisture on the other’s chin as he eased him back down against the pillow.

He hadn’t known then.

Hadn’t known who it was he’d tended to throughout a handful of evenings in his home, who exactly he had found shaking and injured in the small shed that housed his medicinal stores and a few chickens. The stranger had tried desperately to get to his knees, and it wasn’t until much later that Piers realized he should have gone to his.

An exiled prince was still royalty to the rest of them.

Now, he had a summons before him, laid out in parchment and ink and read to him by the courier who had managed to find his dwelling.

Apparently, there were many couriers who had been sent. The new King had been searching for nigh on two years now.

_“You’re hardly well enough to stand,” he’d urged, but the stranger had been adamant._

_“I must meet with my soldiers before sunrise, lest they think me dead. We have to be in the city within the week. We’ll not succeed otherwise.”_

_Knights, moving towards the capitol? He bit his lip, thinking of the whispers and stirrings of rebellion that had just begun to make their way to the furthest reaches of the kingdom. So soon, then._

_As a Regent who had refused to abdicate the throne and exiled the crown prince when he came of age, King Rose’s time as their monarch had been a horrific one, pockmarked by famine and nobles that had grown far too bold in taking more from their territories than the people could sustain. When even the corners of the land could feel the heavy, ugly sting of a ruler’s reign, change was not far behind._

_The question of who would take his place was of little concern. They would either be a tyrant, as they often were, or they would be a passive ruler, with little care towards the lives of peasants beyond a peripheral acknowledgement. But that, at least, was a fate less cruel than their current one._

_“At least take my horse, then. She knows the way,” he said, fighting off the urge to hover when the soldier held his hand to his side, clearly in pain. A journey that far on horseback would not do him any favors, and Piers feared permanent injury was inevitable if he wasn’t willing to lie still long enough to heal._

_“You would give me your horse?” The other asked, the shock apparent on his face. Piers grimaced, nodding. “But—”_

_“There are grander things afoot than my livelihood,” Piers said firmly. “I would see your campaign succeed. If you fail, the King and his snakes would be comin’ to take my horse next month anyways. They care not for what we need to sustain ourselves. If I have no coin, my animals and my land is forfeit. When I have not even that, it’s servitude or death. If you take my horse, at least there will be a few months more before the new King starts thinkin’ he might be owed somethin’.”_

_The odd, saddened look the stranger gave him nearly had him asking for a name. Better that he not know, however, if someone with questions ever came to his door. And what difference did it make, when this man was likely to die in the battle awaiting him?_

_“I will make sure that you are rewarded for the service you have done me,” he said, voice low and earnest, and Piers felt a hot flush creep up his neck._

_“Don’t go undoin’ the work I’ve done to keep you alive, and I’ll consider us even,” he said, looking away._

_When the other had left, he had reached out to take Piers’ hand in his, gracing the back of it with a courtly kiss that set Piers’ heart to racing despite how ridiculous he felt about it. He pressed a bag of food and bandages into the other’s arms and stepped back, unsure what to make of the way the soldier looked at him intently as he paused in the doorway._

_He opened his mouth to speak, closing it again and nodding before he rode off towards some higher calling than Piers would ever be privy to._

Two years later, and the man still crossed his mind now and again. When Piers felt most lonely, his beautiful golden eyes were the ones that looked heatedly into his own. His was the body that was over or under Piers when he needed release from a life that was nothing more or less than it had been the day before. A gentle fantasy between the harsh day to day of trying to keep his village alive. Trying and failing.

And now, as it turned out, his name had been known to Piers all along.

“I will need to arrange for—”

“No need,” the courier cut him off abruptly, and Piers folded his arms more tightly against himself. “You’ll not be returning. These lands will be passed along in your absence.”

 _My absence_ , he thought, heart sinking.

So this was it, then.

The King had decided he knew too much, had seen too much, and needed to tie up that loose end.

Odd, but he’d have thought he would feel…well, _something_ in the face of his own imminent demise. Had it been Rose, he suspected he would have gone kicking and screaming to the gallows. As it stood, he was tired. It had been a long year as he lost more and more of his livestock, land, and people, just as he’d known he would.

Perhaps he was only a little disappointed. Hadn’t he saved the King? Made it possible for him to take his throne back? Hadn’t those eyes been kind when looking at him?

He wasn’t certain anymore.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Do I need to bring anythin’?”

“Only what you do not wish to leave to the next person.”

 _I don’t particularly want to leave anything_ , he thought snidely, but he gathered up some clothes and some trinkets of Marnie’s before she had gone to live with and assist the Countess of Ballonlea. Hopefully he would be granted time to send word before he was executed. He was owed that much, wasn’t he?

Would it be worthwhile to try and flee the entourage that waited outside for him on the road? Likely not. Spending the rest of his life being hunted was an even less appealing prospect to him than death. Perhaps when they drew nearer to the capitol, he would change his mind.

As he climbed into the carriage, surprised that he wasn’t bound and put on horseback, he looked back on what one might think of as his home, feeling something vaguely like relief as it faded from view around the bend of the road. As though he was trading one sort of death for another.

 _Ah_ , he thought, and decided he was very much _not_ going to change his mind.

/////

He had only been to the city a handful of times in his life, often at the beck and call of the Countess who watched over his sister. To be here without a task to fulfill was strange, but he basked in the sights and smells nonetheless, watching the people mill about. Many stared at the carriage as it went by, and he quickly leaned back against the seat, not wanting to be seen.

Nearly a week of travel had worn him out, and by the time they arrived, he was shocked to realize he was being shaken awake. He had hardly slept the entire trip, the worry and fear he denied in the daylight hours catching him up in full force when the moon was high above them.

When he wasn’t turned towards the stockades or dungeon, he wondered if he might be permitted to plead his case before the Court. Or perhaps he wasn’t here to die at all, but so that they might keep an eye on him and ensure he say nothing of the King having taken refuge in his home.

He tried to quell the hope rising in him when he remained unshackled as he was led into the castle just before dusk, as the Court was preparing to take a rest session. The grandeur of the place was staggering, tapestries and opulence everywhere he looked. This was what his village—and countless villages like his—had been bled dry to create. The missing portrait of Rose among the lineup of past rulers was the only thing that kept him from wanting to set the entire place aflame.

They waited their turn for an audience, and his breath caught when he suddenly heard the voice of the King among the others. Was he about to stand before the monarch himself?

 _I’ve done nothing wrong_ , he rehearsed in his head. _I’ve done nothing wrong._

When the group in front of them continued ahead, he was able to see the entire room, his eyes alighting on the King, sitting regally on the throne at the end of the hall.

He was just as beautiful as Piers had remembered.

His eyes were bright and interested as he spoke with his courtiers and subjects, an easy tilt to his head as he nodded and listened to what they were saying about an ongoing land dispute the group was trying to resolve. Piers stared at the way he leaned forward, not keeping himself distant, but drawing nearer to his subjects. They were his inner circle, certainly, as nearly everyone present here was, but Piers had never seen anything like the attentiveness of his demeanor in the few nobles he had seen over the years.

Piers might not have been well versed in the politics of the Court, but he watched as, slowly but surely, the King was able to steer them towards a solution that was agreeable to all of them, patient throughout the process despite many of the same arguments being brought up more than once.

He waited over an hour more, swaying on his feet a bit from how tired he was, before he was finally gestured forward. His heart started to beat hard enough in his chest that he was certain everyone could hear it, and it stuttered when the King turned his face from an advisor beside him to look at him.

His smile froze in place, and Piers faltered, uncertain if he was meant to come any closer. He had never been among the Court before, much less had an audience with…

The sudden realization sunk in.

His knees hit the ground faster than he’d been prepared for, and he winced, keeping his eyes low. No need to anger anyone before he had made his case. He didn’t know if he was meant to speak, or if he needed to wait until the King spoke first, or if—

He heard the other stand and begin to walk towards him, and he heard the falter in the gait that could only be from…

He raised his eyes just enough to see the slight limp in the King’s step, from injuries that had never had time to heal.

“Leave us.” It was spoken to the rest of the room, and Piers hardly dared to breathe as everyone obeyed; quiet, curious murmurs trailing them out as they began to speculate who he was and what was going on. Only the guards remained, ever vigilant and witness to all.

The silence set Piers’ pulse to quickening, uncertain of what would come next.

“Piers.”

He nearly flinched at his name, not having expected it to be known. He supposed he ought to have, if they had managed to find him at all.

“Your Majesty,” he replied, irritated at the way his voice cracked.

His head whipped up when the other suddenly joined him on the floor, that lovely face screwed up in a grimace before it eased back out to its former stoicism. Piers’ hands came up automatically, unused to not aiding someone in pain, fluttering uselessly for a moment before he remembered himself and quickly put them back down. “I’m sorry, I—"

“My given name,” he said. “If you would. I’d not have us start with ceremony and circumstance, not when you’re the reason I stand here now.”

His given—

His _what_?

“But thank you for coming on such short notice, it is good to see you again,” he continued, smiling brightly. “I’m terribly sorry it took so long to find you, I was…rather not at my best when we last met and my sense of direction is awful even when I have my wits about me. I had no idea what the names of the places near you were, and I’m afraid I made life rather difficult for the couriers by not having…well, any information at all past a description of you. Oh, but did you enjoy your journey here? I sent my fastest horses, but nearly seven days is still a long time to be on the road. Were my guards attentive to you? I hope the carriage was comfortable enough.”

He was…rambling.

The King was tripping over his words, the pace of his voice a clear hint at nervousness.

It might have been endearing had Piers not felt so off kilter, so flustered by the strange sense of relief skittering up his spine in contrast to the unsatisfied terror he had been existing in the past few days. He stared, feeling like an utter tit when the smile faltered a little at his silence.

He hadn’t noticed anything really, as they’d traveled here. He’d hardly learned the names of the guards escorting him, hadn’t tasted anything but ash when they’d stopped to make camp, had felt nothing but a cycle of fear, resentment, and numbness as he’d contemplated his own death.

“I—I’m sure everythin’ was quite satisfactory,” he managed to say, and could have slapped himself when it only served to dim the light further in the other’s eyes. “Only, I’m not used to such finery is all,” he rallied quickly, relieved when the King nodded in contemplation. “And I was…confused as to the purpose of my travels.”

The King’s smile went soft with understanding.

“Ah, I see. Then allow me to clarify my intent.”

He slowly reached out, allowing him time, before he took Piers’ hands, bringing them both to his lips, and then his forehead. Piers’ mouth fell open, his breath caught tightly in his throat.

It was the very oath that had bound him in servitude to the Countess when he was barely more than a bairn. A life debt, unable to be paid, because there was no possible way his work would ever amount to what the land was worth. Such was his lot in life, as it was for everyone else in his world. They lived and died by these rules, took joy and comfort where they could, and kept their heads low when the gentry came riding by.

He couldn’t allow a King to unknowingly—

“Yours were the hands that guided me into another day, that made certain I would live to be here, where I can do the same for my kingdom. I asked that you be brought here so that I might reward that kindness. I owe you a life debt.”

“A life de—You owe me nothin’!” He blurted out before he could think better of it. “I thought—" And stopped himself quickly.

The King frowned and shuffled closer, a concerned line between his brows that Piers wanted to smooth away. “What did you think?”

How was he supposed to answer that when the ruler of an entire kingdom was unthinkingly running his fingers gently against his palm? What he had thought was so far from the reality of this monarch who would have dust stains on fabric that cost more than Piers’ entire life for a few moments when he stood, because he was kneeling on the floor beside one of his subjects, clearly worried about them.

“They seized the lands I was workin’,” he said defensively. “What else was I supposed to…that is, I…” He was awful at this, his voice harsh and crass against the softness of nobility surrounding him. Most people lived their entire lives without seeing a single stone of the inner halls, much less the people who dwelled in them.

“They’ve been takin’ more and more, I barely had anythin’ left. Between that and findin’ out you had been lookin’ for me the whole time, I—”

Golden eyes widened in understanding. “You thought you were here to…that I would…” Piers squirmed in discomfort and the King bit his lip. It took everything in Piers not to scream in the silence that reigned as the other took that in.

“I suppose that’s…you said that day it wouldn’t matter who was on the throne. That it was the difference of months and I…”

Piers didn’t know what to do with the sight of someone’s heart breaking in front of him, no idea what to do with _any_ of this surreal situation he’d stumbled into.

“What you must think of me,” Leon murmured, shoulders slumped and something tired in his tightness of his jaw. “I went and did just as you’d feared. I swear I didn’t know they were still—but it doesn’t matter. I am meant to be aware of what my nobles are doing. I’m so sorry that my inattention caused you pain or fear. It was unconsciously done, and I will rectify that immediately. You need only tell me what you want, and I will make sure you have it.”

“Your Majesty—”

“My name,” the King said again, and there was such loneliness in his voice, something Piers had never had much defense against. “Please. I deserve no such titles of honor from you.”

They were effectively alone, and perhaps if he were quiet enough, not even the guards would hear. It felt wrong, like he had clambered far above his station without ever having wanted it. It felt like a betrayal and a benediction all at once, but he’d not disappoint the King further, no matter how wrong he was about their respective places in life.

“Leon,” he said, nearly a whisper, and his heart clenched at the way the other’s expression morphed into something a shade or two short of awe.

Because someone not worth the parchment and ink of the summons he’d sent had called him by name? Did this man have no one close to him? No family to look to for guidance or a Queen to hold and comfort him?

It was a distressing thought if it were true.

“Thank you,” Leon said after a moment, breathing in and out deeply. “I…” He ran a hand down in his face, looking older than his years. “I imagined this going very differently.”

Piers had no idea what to say to that. _How did you imagine this going? What am I meant to do now if you haven’t brought me here to die? Please stop looking so hurt because I am a healer and I hate when there is nothing I can do?_

Leon sighed and seemed to steady himself, a smile on his face that paled in comparison to the first.

“No matter. You must be exhausted from the journey, as well as the upheaval I’ve foisted on you. I realize it’s all a little untoward now, but I had a room made up for your arrival. You can rest there for the night until I get everything sorted out. Whatever you decide to do from here, I will see it done. But first I think we ought to get off this floor. I did not mean for us to stay down here quite so long.”

Leon started to move towards standing before Piers could say anything, and the grunt of pain was enough to have Piers reaching out to stop the King from going right back down again. He stared at wide, startled eyes, the other’s fingers gripping his shoulders for balance, a rabbit quick image of gritted teeth as he stitched and bathed a myriad of wounds and those same hands as they held onto him in the midst of fever flashing by. Piers was only distantly aware of a few shouts and the sound of metal being unsheathed before—

“Stop,” the King said firmly, looking behind Piers and curving his body instinctively to be between Piers and the guards despite the fact that they immediately backed down. “He’s only—” He hissed, hand flying to his side. Piers quickly grabbed it away, not wanting him to put pressure on it.

“Easy, Your Majesty,” he said gently, and winced when Leon gripped his shoulder tighter. “You’ll only hurt yourself further. Lean against me when I stand and let me help carry you up so your side does not spasm again.”

Leon nodded mutely and did as he was told, getting his good leg under him to help aid them as Piers slowly brought them to standing, alert for any further signs of pain. They waited a while, before Leon tested himself and took his weight back onto his leg, sighing in relief when it did nothing more than twinge. Piers could feel the guards watching closely, hands at their waist, and swallowed hard.

“Does this happen often?” He asked, before hurriedly backing down. “Ah, I’m sorry, I spoke out of—”

“Often enough,” Leon said quickly, eyes looking past the Piers’ shoulder rather than directly at him. Embarrassed and expression shuttered. Unreadable. “Nothing a bit of rest will not ease. Come, I wish to retire. I will show you your rooms and then be on my way.”

Piers blinked and followed him from the room, confused and more than a little alarmed when he waved the guards off and they left in the other direction. He had just been in a great deal of agony, what on earth was he doing, taking on a task so far beneath him Piers might have laughed in any other situation?

“Your Majesty, can the servants not—”

“Did I not ask for you to use my name?” Leon cut him off again, a hint of anger in his voice, and Piers hastily slowed his steps, putting more distance between them, eyes down. The King suddenly stopped, looking over his shoulder with something akin to horror in his expression when Piers froze, several feet behind.

“I…” he started, before his voice died off and any energy he had gained in the past few minutes visibly leeched from his body.

The sounds of the castle going about its day were muffled here in the corridor, but Piers took comfort in something that wasn’t the stilted silence that seemed to plague them every time they tried to speak.

“I seem to be incapable of making any sort of good impression today,” Leon said, voice choked around something, trying to maintain an even tone. “I apologize for my lack of decorum.” He opened his mouth, as though he might say something more, and then shook his head after a long while, turning back around to continue walking.

Piers watched quietly as his limp grew more and more pronounced the longer they walked, the way he shifted in discomfort from straining the injuries hidden beneath layers of robes and regalia.

He took a deep breath when he could stand it no longer.

This was the same man as the one of two years past, wasn’t he? He had already been King in all but name, the same royal upbringing and right to the throne. The same determination and dogged stubbornness in the face of his injuries.

The same need for care as before.

He had thought he was headed for the gallows. He might still find his way there for daring to touch the King, but watching even a moment more felt far worse just then. Propriety be damned.

He slipped under the other’s arm, wrapping his own around his waist to shelter Leon’s wounded side against him, keeping his eyes forward when the King startled, looking down at him.

Eventually, his shoulders lowered and he slowly leaned more heavily against Piers, letting him take his weight off the leg that was paining him.

“Forgive me, I could not watch you keep goin’ like that.”

He finally looked at Leon when the other bent slightly to catch his eye.

“Why is it that you keep apologizing to me, when I am the one who has done nothing but cause you grief with every word that has come out of my mouth?”

“Why is it you care so much about rewardin’ me, when I clearly didn’t do enough?” He asked, his worry growing smaller when Leon pressed closer to his side, their progress slowing, but hardly any weight at all on his leg now. “You’re hurtin’.”

The King smiled softly at him. “If I recall, that was your bargain. To not undo your hard work, and we would be even. I failed to keep my end of it.”

“You didn’t have this one when you left,” Piers said, looking at where their sides brushed against each other.

“A parting gift from the Regent, I’m afraid,” Leon said, voice tight and clipped and so very sad. “He was rather adamant that if he were to be slain, he would be taking me along with him. Ah, here we are.”

They stood before wide doors that would lead to where he would be sleeping for the night, and Piers suddenly envisioned Leon’s journey back to his own rooms, alone. He hesitated, weighing his options.

It was madness, but…

“Come inside and rest a moment?” He requested, and Leon let out a shaky breath of relief, throwing him a grateful look that he didn’t quite understand, given that it was _his_ castle and he might do as he liked.

He helped the other over to the bed, steering him away from the chair he’d initially moved towards, and eased him down to sitting. Sweat was beaded at his temples, and his jaw was strained, breath coming in harshly through his nose.

“I have…medicine with me,” Piers said slowly, biting his lip. It was more than a little forward of him, to presume that Leon would ever need him. He had the finest healers in the land at his disposal, and yet…

“And something I can put on the scarring to help ease some of the tightness, if you would like.”

“You should rest,” Leon said, staring down at his hands. “I have taken enough of your time already.”

“It is time well-spent, if I can help in any way,” Piers said, feeling bold and unwilling to let him go without at least an effort. “I would rest better knowin’ you’re not in pain.”

Leon looked up at him with something indiscernible in his eyes, searching his face.

“Very well.”

Piers nodded, glad he had brought some things rather than leaving them in the shed to spoil.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

The world felt hushed when he kneeled to start helping Leon disrobe, slipping off his boots and setting them aside before each layer of his outer robes was removed and placed carefully in the empty armoire near his bedside. When he was down to his shirt and braies, Piers went to his bag for his supplies.

He brought everything over, measuring out a dose of medicine into a small cup before handing it off to Leon.

“It will taste foul,” he warned. “I’ve no honey to accompany it.”

Leon screwed up his nose in response before draining it as quickly as he could, gagging a little before laughing.

“You did warn me.”

The sound of it made Piers’ neck feel prickly and he turned to his jars, staring at them for a moment to compose himself when Leon laid down fully, hiking up his shirt to allow Piers access to his side.

The angry, knotted web of scarring that marred his skin was enough to distract him from all other thoughts for a long while.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of it, eyes traveling along its length before his hands followed, mapping it out and feeling for any untreated internal damage below. He had seen worse, though by only the smallest of margins. That he had lived through this at all was a testament to either his luck or his skill in combat.

“Did you not see a healer after the Regent did this?” He asked, opening a salve and warming it between his palms. “These are like what I saw in my village from before I learned my craft. When things were left untreated.”

Leon’s face was a mixture of guilt and shame, and Piers paused, waiting.

“The healer…she was…Rose had planted her among my men from the beginning. I trusted her, had thought she left alongside me because she had helped raise me, but I was wrong. She tried to…it was poison, a dose of medicine that didn’t taste like the others. I…of all the lives I took, hers was…”

Piers started to work the salve into the scar gently, giving Leon a moment to grieve without him staring. His blood boiled at the thought of any healer abusing the trust placed in them, but he kept it tightly reigned in, not wanting to distress the King further.

“And then it happened again,” Leon said, and all thoughts of calm flew from his mind.

“What?” He hissed, uncertain if he had heard that correctly.

“Someone paid them,” Leon said, eyes far away. “I fell to fever for nearly a fortnight after. Assassinations of new rulers are not uncommon and I…it was too much to allow another to try again. There was no one I could trust. It was when I began to seek you out in earnest.”

Piers jolted, eyes wide. “Me?”

Leon nodded, watching as Piers started moving again, a wounded noise choked off at the back of his throat when Piers had to press harder at the scars to get to the tense muscles below.

“You had already helped me once. If I could have trusted anyone, it would have been you. But I had few ways of finding you, and soon enough it did not matter anymore. The damage was permanent.”

“Why did you continue to search after?”

The glow of the lanterns bathed everything in a heady shade, and Leon’s eyes caught and held him with the way they shone in the light. Piers could hardly breathe but for how otherworldly he looked like this. Something the ghosts and fae had left behind for the rest of them to gaze at from afar. He had already known this as he had tended to him the first time. But now, there was no sense of urgency or danger to Leon’s immediate continued existence to distract him. Just warm, soft skin and the little sounds of relief he made as the scars and muscles below began to loosen.

The proximity was setting Piers’ skin alight.

“Your circumstances were not what they ought to have been. How could I turn away from the misery I witnessed everywhere I went, least of all yours? I owed you everything.”

“It was my duty as a healer to—”

“And I wanted to know you.”

His mouth snapped shut, and he paused for a moment to swallow hard before he reached for another jar.

Unfathomable, and said so shyly.

“Not much to know, I’m afraid,” he said evenly, and Leon reached out to still his hands, trapping them between his own and the pulse Piers could feel racing below skin and bone.

“I have already seen enough to know that isn’t true.”

This time, the quiet was easy. And acknowledgement that there could be no more said on the subject without disagreement. Instead, Leon turned their conversation towards the past two years, and his visions for the kingdom’s future.

He did not know why Leon shared such thoughts with him, but the care for his people was evident as he talked of those who had aided his quest and plans for helping the kingdom prosper once more.

When he fell asleep mid-sentence, the tail of it meandering into nothing, Piers stepped out to inform the knights who had made their way to his door, ignoring the raised brows and glance towards each other in favor of going back inside to put his things away until he could stay awake no longer. He snuffed out the candles one by one, the moon as his only light through the sole window of the room.

He laid down as far as he could from the King, watching the shadows play out along his handsome face, slowly drifting until his eyes closed and he joined the other in dreams.

/////

He awoke briefly in the night to feel strong arms draw him close, a soft, pleased sigh at his ear before Leon stilled once more, breathing deeply and undisturbed. Piers shifted just enough to feel the way Leon fit against him, the rasp of his beard against his neck, a hand curled loosely near his chest.

He fell back asleep between one breath and the next.

/////

They both awoke early, each used to rising with the sun despite the late hour they had gone abed. Piers retrieved Leon’s clothing, shivering when the other’s fingers brushed his wrist as he took them and began to dress himself.

Leon’s smile rivaled the sunlight when he stood and his leg could produce only a dull throb rather than a trail of fire.

“If you stay,” he started, but he needn’t have. Piers would not have left short of a command.

“I accept,” he said, and somehow, the King’s smile only grew brighter. The castle needed a healer.

They did not speak of how they had awoken curved around each other.

/////

The year following Piers’ arrival at the castle saw a thousand changes in both the kingdom and its King.

A routine began somewhere just past the first month, when Leon awoke one morning with a pain so sharp in his side that it left him too breathless to scream. It felt like it went on forever, until an attendant came through his door and found him like that before fleeing to seek out Piers.

By the time Piers had finished running a cool cloth along Leon’s face and neck, wiping away sweat and tears alike, he had secured the King’s agreement to come see him at least once a week rather than let things build to that point.

Every few nights saw Leon stretched out on a bed, his demeanor relaxed and trusting as he let Piers work and talked about whatever came to mind. Piers looked forward to the knock upon his door, or the days when he would be invited into Leon’s rooms. They were hardly apart, sharing space in the libraries or watching each other from across the hall when great feasts and gatherings were afoot. Many an evening found Leon teaching Piers the ways of Court, asking him if he might like to join him in his tours about the kingdom.

As though Piers would let him go without him, when he might ensure that the King was not overtaxing himself.

Every moment they spent outside of the castle was a testament to his choice to aid Leon having been the right one. The King was beloved, for his own merits as well as by comparison to Rose. He spent as much time as he could among the furthest reaches of his kingdom, a stark contrast to the histories of the territory.

“A friend of mine,” Leon explained. “One who rules a neighboring land and offered me aid in my reclamation. I had never seen such devotion to a King as I saw with his people. I asked how it was his family had ruled for so long without interruption, and I learned a great deal from him. Even now, he extends trade opportunity to us and his advisors have been invaluable in helping my own. Mine would have been a much shorter reign had I not had his support. You would like him, I should think.”

Those lessons had clearly been well learned.

_“Tell me more about your farm, have you any complaints as to—”_

_“I am planning on sending food and equipment to the people in your care. Should I discover that they find their way into your possession rather than theirs—”_

_“Your medicinal stores are unparalleled. Have you the desire to travel further out than the city with proper compensation? Piers, come look at these, have you need of anything? Miss, I could ensure—”_

And behind closed doors…

“I have been thinking more and more often of something different. The way in which our land is distributed and overseen, it…I spend far more time having to wrangle unruly or greed-addled nobles than I should like. The people suffer in the meantime.”

“I think we might find a solution if we lay out the various options history has shown us,” King Raihan said, the two of them near the end of their candlelight as they passed scrolls and text between them in the late hours. “If not, let us consider something new. You have the ear of your people, they will follow where you lead them longer than you might think. Do not hesitate to experiment. If they grow used to change or new schools of thought when better or more effective ideas are presented, it will serve you well.”

“Leon,” Piers called quietly as he came in, having listened to them a while longer. “The hour grows early instead of late. You ought to be gettin’ some rest.” He tried not to let the feeling of King Raihan’s sharp eyes on him intimidate him, refusing to be moved when it came to Leon’s well-being.

“A while longer, Piers,” the other said distractedly, peering closely at the words before him. “This is fascinating, come sit with us and tell me what you think of—”

He blinked when the parchment disappeared from his hands.

“Listen to your healer, Leon,” Raihan said with a cheeky grin, already rolling the scroll and sending Piers a knowing look. “You’ll live longer for it. I am here for the month, there will be time aplenty for further research.”

Leon sighed and gave only the most token of protests before he gave in. They stepped out in tandem, with Piers trailing them, and when King Raihan glanced back at him, he mouthed a quiet thank you, to which the other smiled and nodded.

Piers decided he did, in fact, like their neighboring King a great deal.

He could not say the same for some of the other rulers in nearby kingdoms.

/////

“Leon?”

He leaned his forehead against the woodgrain of the door, his nightclothes doing little to shield him from the chill in the air that heralded the winter months.

No answer, though he knew the King could hear him.

“Leon, it has been over a week,” he reminded gently. “You’re goin’ to start feelin’ it soon.”

Silence, and more and more and more silence.

_“Your Majesty, I do not wish to continue this farce. You and I both know there is nothing your kingdom can offer mine so soon after you have reclaimed the throne, and our betrothal was nullified the moment you were exiled in any case.”_

_“I—I had thought—”_

_“Do you know what happens to Queens in situations such as this?” She asked, and Leon shook his head mutely._

_“When we inevitably fail to produce an heir, it will be me who is sent away in disgrace. I have seen it before, and I’ll not be blamed for your…”_

_Her eyes had darted down to where Leon was favoring one leg over the other, exhausted from having been on his feet the entire night. Piers had thought him unbearably majestic as he’d danced, whirling his intended around the room, a princess he had been engaged to since their infancy._

_Her mouth pressed tight into a grimace._

_“…deficiencies.”_

He left only when the candlelight went out from beneath the door.

/////

_Dearest Brother,_

_I hope this letter finds you in every comfort. I wished to express gratitude to the King for the additional supplies that were sent to the village, but I did not think it prudent to write to him directly. On my last visit with you, the two of you seemed to be in each other’s company with great frequency. Should that still be the case, would you pass my thanks on to him for me?_

_You would hardly recognize anything if you returned, Piers, everything has been flourishing these past months. King Leon has been more than generous with us, and it’s the first I have ever seen the people this happy. The first there have been no debts or deficiencies—_

/////

It was only a few days later that he was summoned, running to where Leon lay on the floor, gasping through the spasms while his attendants tried to help him sit up.

“Help me move him to the bed,” he instructed, gritting his teeth when Leon barely held back a scream as they picked him up and laid him among the pillows.

He did not waste time as they all wisely decided his work was better done in peace.

It was not until Leon finally went lax, released from the grip of how hard his muscles had seized that either of them said a word.

He washed his hands of the ointments in the basin of water at the King’s bedside before he looked between the door and where Leon lay staring up at the ornate, gilded art of the ceiling. He dithered a while, until he finally let out a quiet breath and sat beside Leon, brushing a hand through his hair to move it from his face.

Leon flinched away, and Piers nearly stood to flee before his hand was caught and Leon pressed his face into it, a quiet sob choked back down into his chest. He had hardly made a sound, even when he had been hurting, but now…

“I beg of you,” Piers said, voice low, everything in him aching to gather the other close to him. “Don’t inflict further harm upon yourself over her callousness.”

“I will endeavor not to,” Leon replied quietly. “I only wish you had not witnessed that.”

Piers brushed away his tears with his sleeve, running his fingers under the other’s eyes and massaging at his temples to keep any potential headaches at bay. Leon’s eyes were closed, and Piers wanted so badly to be allowed to kiss the corners of them, to chase off the shadows that had no right to assert themselves over this being of sunlight.

“Why is it you treat me softly when I bring this on myself?”

“Is the world not permitted to be gentle with you?”

“Has it ever been thus to me?” It was not said bitterly, but perhaps it was that very fact that left the foul taste in his mouth.

“No,” Piers agreed. “So don’t ask me to go joinin’ on its endeavors. I’ll not be shuffled in with the likes of the Regent or your would-be bride.”

“She was right, though,” Leon said. Sad, rather than angry, and Piers decided he would be angry for the both of them.

“She was _not_ ,” he hissed. “You cannot ask me to believe that you would ever send someone away for such a thing. I have witnessed the fire in you when you encounter such injustices. I have been present for the gratitude of countless people as you have painstakingly made life better for them. I have seen you carry a lost child, covered in filth, back to his family, with no regards to anythin’ but makin’ sure he was safe.”

“She had no way of knowing that, she doesn’t know me. And _you_ carried the lad most of the way, when he kicked my side by mistake.”

“Was it not you who told me that to rule is to learn delegation? How to rely on others who aid one’s weaknesses? How is this any different from that?”

He laid a hand over Leon’s heart. He couldn’t bear to hear such things, not when he—

“You would sooner perish than hurt someone else. You save that animosity for yourself. You think yourself broken.”

“Is that not what I am? Look at me,” Leon said, and Piers hated the vitriol that was directed internally more than he could ever hope to express in words.

“I have been,” he murmured, not daring to do so now. “I am _always_ lookin’ at you, can hardly do anythin’ else when you are in the room. She has no idea what I would do to be in her place. To be allowed to want you were she not such a thrice damned _fool_.”

He could have cut himself on the sharpness of the silence that followed.

He might have denied it in his own mind at any other time. Said that he hadn’t meant to let the words escape, to press them against Leon’s chest in hopes that his heart would hear it where his mind would not.

He would have been lying to himself.

“For reasons I still do not understand, you have decided that I am someone to confide in. To associate with despite my low status and against all expectation,” he said, looking Leon in the eye. “If you trust me as you say you do, I would ask that you put her poison from your mind and use my eyes instead of your own when you’re thinkin’ about talkin’ like that about yourself. You’re entirely correct, she doesn’t know you. _I_ do.”

When Leon did nothing but stare at him, he got to his feet, busied himself with gathering his medicine in the quiet his words had left behind, cheeks aflame with embarrassment though he would stand by what he had said until the sky fell down around them.

He had…harbored some hope, he supposed. That perhaps the way Leon looked at him in turn had held feelings similar to his own. Just the smallest bit of hope, of course.

Just enough to sting.

There was no sense in longing for the impossible.

He couldn’t regret it though, not if it meant that Leon might be more willing to see himself as his people did. As Piers did.

 _Do you know that I still have dreams of my village?_ He wondered. _They aren’t the pleasant kind. My worst of night terrors are when I turn you away at the door or fail to save you. When I never knew you at all, and my life was just a spinning wheel of wondering when death would come for me, for any of those with nothing. For us, before you came back, it always arrived a little early._

“Send word, if you have need of me again today,” he instructed. Leon was kind. He was too generous to turn Piers away for unwanted feelings, but it didn’t mean Piers was capable of the same. He needed a moment to—

Leon’s fingers wrapped carefully around his wrist, drawing him in.

“Piers, I…do you…” His thumb was pressed against his pulse, as though it might be the only thing stable enough to cling to. Piers took in a shaky breath, sitting beside him again. The King’s fingertips slid up into the sleeves of his tunic, keeping him there, and Piers thought he might drown in the way he was being looked at.

So uncertain and…

And as hopeful as he had been feeling.

Did…did Leon…?

“Very much so,” he said, barely at sound to it.

There was stunned awe in those eyes, fragile and in need of reassurance of its truth, and Piers took that in as long as he could before he had to close his own when Leon’s mouth met his.

Oh, but he was…

It was soft and slow, the most careful exploration of him he had ever felt. Leon brought him close, releasing him only to frame his face with his hands, cradling his jaw. Piers couldn’t help the quiet sound of pleasure he made when Leon caressed the shell of his ear, pushing a hand into his hair.

“Piers.”

Nothing but that, a momentary call to him before his mouth was taken again and he shifted to lean more fully over Leon, basking in the way it enticed the other to wrap his arms around him. There was such sweetness in his touch, a hesitance that Piers had come to realize was Leon’s way of ensuring he never overstepped, would never used his power or his strength to overrule another no matter that he could and no one would have the means to stop him.

It was one of a thousand things Piers had fallen in love with.

Leon tipped his chin up when they broke apart for air, running his lips along Piers’ jaw and throat, gentle kisses following in his wake.

He felt as he had when he had first arrived here, unsure of his place and afraid of every potential misstep. He pushed it aside, knowing Leon would chide him for such thoughts, and simply let himself enjoy how good it felt to have the other’s hands on him.

They learned each other slowly, neither willing to push further when they both knew that they would not have time until later to pursue anything more.

“I need to stop,” Leon murmured against Piers’ shoulder after a long while. “I want…the day has hardly begun and I cannot…”

Piers understood the sentiment, aching to be skin to skin with Leon more than anything in the world.

“I’ll find your attendants and have them come help you dress,” he said, biting his lip when Leon laid his head back against the pillows, looking tempting beyond measure. “I won’t be able to keep my hands from you if I am the one helpin’.”

The heated look he was graced with was nearly enough to crumble his resolve.

He slipped from the bed, their eyes on each other as he gathered his things.

“May I come to your rooms tonight?” Leon asked, sitting up, and Piers shivered at the tightly reigned need just below the surface.

There was nothing he wanted quite so much.

“Even were you not the King,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “You would never have to ask.”

/////

“ _Oh_ ,” he sighed, gripping Leon’s arms when the other let out a shuddery breath of his own and slid a little deeper into him.

The King’s hair was loose and unbound, slipping over his shoulders, and Piers tucked the strands behind his ear, heart beating hard in his chest as his hand was caught and his fingertips kissed one by one.

Leon had come to his door, looking more at ease than Piers had ever seen him.

_“I could think of nothing else today,” he admitted, laughing and every part of him radiant as he fitted his hands to Piers’ waist, walking them backwards into the room. “I’m afraid I owe a myriad of my advisors an apology for being far from the tasks at hand despite being physically present.”_

_For his part, the day had been spent with his fingers buried inside himself in a desperate attempt to not count the hours until Leon would seek him out._

_Undressing another person had never felt quite so intimate, as few and far as his trysts had been._

_The familiarity of Leon’s hair fanned out on the pillow was comforting despite how new it was to be permitted to touch in a different way now. Also new was the way Leon’s cock hardened under his gaze, his body responding to the intent on Piers’ face as he retrieved his oils and salves._

_For every few minutes of time spent on his side and leg, another was spent exploring the rest of him. He sought out the places that drew pleasured sounds from the King, touching all but his cock, until finally—_

_“Piers, please,” he entreated, panting when his request was granted and Piers wrapped his fingers around his length. He groaned, a laugh not far behind it when Piers stroked only a short while before he was back to finishing with the scars, a smile at the corners of his mouth that Leon chased with kisses._

_The King’s eyes wandered over him as Piers completed his task, and he had looked his fill until the last of their routine was done. A jar of oil for skin, rather than medicine, was handed over and Leon set his hands to some work of his own._

_Piers whimpered when he was rolled to be under Leon’s strong form, guiding him down to give over more of his weight so as to not strain his side._

He felt so good against Piers like this, warm and all encompassing.

He whispered as much into Leon’s ear, making the other push more forcefully into him for a moment, both of them gasping at the feeling.

“I never experienced such loneliness as when I left your care,” Leon said, and Piers moaned quietly, mind filled with the times he had thought of the knight he’d assumed he would never see again. “I had no idea as to why, not until I saw you again. I had never encountered anyone so striking as you, so willing to be kind to a complete stranger in need of your help. I very nearly asked you to come with me, to be another healer in our ranks, but the risk was too great.”

Any response Piers might have given was lost when Leon started to move in earnest, creating an easy rhythm that pierced him through despite how careful the King was being and had him pushing his face up against the other’s neck to anchor himself. His cock was trapped between them, leaking steadily, and he cried out when Leon ran a hand along his thigh, spreading him further and driving him wild.

He could not help the ungenerous thought that, were he capable of bearing children, he would have never let the Princess hear the end of it. Deficiencies his absolute—

He opened his eyes blearily, brow furrowing when he realized that the pleasure on Leon’s face was starting to edge into discomfort.

He slowed the King’s pace, running his hands through the other’s hair as he managed to make his voice work long enough to give his intentions.

“Let me,” he said, and Leon allowed himself to be moved until he was on his back, Piers settled atop him. “Oh, that’s— _nnh_!”

Piers cursed under his breath, trembling. Every movement caused the core of him to spark like the scrape of one blade against another. He rode low, pressing his forehead against Leon’s, jolting when a tongue slipped into his mouth, lapping at the sounds spilling from his throat.

Leon wrapped his arms around his back, holding him still so that he could cant his hips up into him, words of love and desire woven into his hair like flowers as Leon made him his.

Piers pulled back to look into golden eyes that had seen him from the very first, smiling when Leon shook his head, laced their hands together, and dragged him back down against his chest.

“You are too far from me,” he murmured, and Piers couldn’t have agreed more.

They moved tightly together, wound around each other as the heat spiraled into something unstoppable, untamable, their names sacred and profane and passed back and forth between their mouths as they sought their pleasure together.

Each thrust drew out another sound into the night, every breath carried a plea for _more, I beg of you, please, please, I need—_

He had hardly dared to hope that he could have this, was still half afraid of the King coming to his senses and remembering that he was hardly a thing worth loving.

“I cannot believe I found you,” Leon whispered, and Piers choked back a cry at how reverent he sounded. What chance did doubt have against devotion? “That I am permitted to hold you.”

It took only a moment more before Piers spilled between them, the broken sounds of Leon’s name cried out in the dark, just before the other joined him, filling him until he felt nothing but the way the slickness inside him made it easy for Leon to thrust a handful of times more, extending Piers’ pleasure until he had nothing left to give.

He reveled in the way the night cradled them both in the aftermath, the two of them satisfied and unable to let go of each other.

He shivered while they caught their breath, sweat cooling on his skin, keeping Leon inside him as long as he could before he would inevitably have to move. The contented sound Leon made was something to be savored, and he gave one of his own when the other took his arms, drawing him down to curl around him, settling the blankets over them both.

They kept the late hour together, talking quietly and enjoying each other's presence until sleep overtook them.

/////

They would awake in the morning with the sun, sticky and sore, unable to care about either when the first thing they heard was the other’s voice.

There was little in the world that could heal quite like that.

_Epilogue_

“Drink this, it will help.”

A warm cup of tea was presented to him, and Piers smirked at the cheeky grin on the King’s face. He took it from him, drinking deeply, pleased at the taste. “Thank you, oh wise healer. This is just what I needed.” It earned him a laugh, and it was that, more than anything, that never failed to feel most healing to him.

He sighed happily when Leon kissed the top of his head and sat on the bed with him, checking the bandages around his leg.

“Stop fussing,” he chided, swatting the other’s hands away. “They were changed not an hour past and the attendant did a masterful job of it. I might have to take her on as an apprentice, if she has any interest in it. She has a natural talent.”

“It is difficult not to,” Leon said, kissing his palm before holding it to his cheek. “My heart nearly gave out, seeing you thrown from the horse like that.”

Thankfully, nothing had been broken, save perhaps his pride at being seen yelling at the King to be careful when the other picked him up and carried him all the way back to the castle. He had hardly let anyone see to his injuries before he was checking Leon over, making sure he had not strained anything. He had relatively little pain from Piers’ repeated treatments over the past few years, but it was always best to be cautious.

“Mm, I suppose there are worse things than having the King himself worried about my well-being,” he teased, lying back when Leon slowly untied his braies and kissed along the skin of his thighs. “I have missed being at your side these past few days.”

“It has been beyond lonely without you there,” Leon agreed, laying his head on Piers’ stomach for a moment, letting him play with his hair. “But my advisors can handle themselves for a day or so, while I attend you. I am at your disposal, should you need anything.”

Oh, but he loved him.

“Just this,” Piers said, heart aching in the sweetest of ways, taking Leon’s face in his hands.

He drew him in, kissing him softly.

“Just you.”


End file.
